The Bridesmaids Ch. 01

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Veronica, the maid, gets Trent's mind off work.
2.8k words
4.34
29.9k
8

Part 2 of the 5 part series

Updated 10/14/2022
Created 04/21/2007
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Chapter 1 - Housekeeping

The sun hit Trent's face as he woke up. A welcome change from the grating beeps of the alarm clock. Dreams still ghosted images across his sleepy eyes. Images like shooting jism across Jocasta's tits. Images like topless girls playing on the beach, the water coating their smooth breasts, their nipples erect from the cold breeze. Images like Jocasta's face when he fucked her, her face combining agony and ecstasy into one expression.

Trent rubbed his stiff neck as he sat up on the bed. Too many days being too stressed out. That didn't stop him from having an erection this morning. A combination of arousal and the need to urinate.

He did not notice the china blue sea and sky as he turned on the TV. Not bothering to turn up the volume, he scanned the headlines. Below the talking head, he read the crawl. Bombing here. Protest there. Then he remembered: it was Saturday, stock markets were closed. That gave him a couple days to patch things up should the deals go sour. Pretty soon all that glad-handing and number crunching would result in a fat commission deposited to his bank account. Play money.

He stared at the sea. On the night table his cell phone rested. Inert. Picking it up, he saw no messages. She hadn't called.

It was 10: 30 am. 'She should have called by now. Fuck,' Trent thought.

Getting up, he walked to the shower. No need to feel ashamed of his nakedness, he left the door open as he peed. Then he combed his black hair and shaved. For the first time he didn't look like a complete wreck.

'When was the last time I was caught up on sleep?' He thought.

For some reason, the thought of Jocasta having a fiancé bothered him. He felt oddly possessive. He didn't want to share her. Maybe because she said he worked for Vector Enterprises. As long as no one gossiped, he'd be fine.

Possessiveness did not normally intrude into Trent's relationships. Not like fooling around with another man's wife was a big deal anymore. The AIDS cure was old news now. As were the earlier cures for herpes and other biological nasties that got in the way of promiscuous fucking. And among the hyper-competitive business elites Trent socialized with, promiscuity was a badge of honor. A man or a woman wasn't considered executive material unless they could have multiple affairs, while still frequenting the swinger scene.

Before the business deals left him with no social life, he had been an active swinger. The swingers in the Cannes-St. Tropez area, near the headquarters of Vector Enterprises, were insatiable. For all his thoughts about Jocasta, he wanted to reenter the swinger scene again. Maybe she could join him. Then they'd really have fun together.

The thought kept his mind occupied as he walked down the staircase into the kitchen. He ate a piece of toast in the master kitchen. Unlike this particular kitchen with its smooth lines and chrome fixtures, there existed a larger kitchen in the beach house's sub-basement. The kitchen staff toiled over the ranges and boilers, the walk-in freezers, and produce lockers that encompassed nearly the entire floor. It had never been used this summer. Sad really. Trent walked into the living room, turning on another plasma screen TV. He sat in a large black leather couch, vacantly nibbling on his toast. Flipping through the channels, he stopped on an auto race. Possibly a Le Mans series. Hard to tell mid-race. He enjoyed the race for its simple pleasures: watching Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and Porsches hurtle around the winding track, bound only by the driver's determination and reflexes.

If he hadn't been drafted into the family business, he'd have been a professional driver. The Ferrari's lines reminded him of Jocasta, the line leading from her thigh to her waist. He could almost taste her nipples and feel her warmth between her legs. Just thinking about her made him hard. As cars swept around the tight corners, he caressed his hardening cock beneath his sweat pants.

'If she's not going to call, obsessing about her won't do a damn thing,' Trent thought, 'Plus this race is boring.'

He walked out on to the concrete deck that surrounded the beach house. Then he stripped off his shirt and sweatpants, then dove into the swimming pool.

*

Veronica Vanuschka's job was housekeeping. Hired shortly after Trent acquired the beach house, she joined the cohort of maids, cooks, chauffeurs, and valets needed to make Trent's life less strenuous. Since he spent his nights either in the downtown apartment or The Residence, he reduced the cohort of domestics to the bare minimum. Three or four maids to perform general clean up duties. An on-call cook. And a small security team. The beach house was empty, not an invitation to squatters.

Today was Veronica's day off. She spent yesterday polishing the silver and dusting the furniture. With those dreadful tasks complete, she used the afternoon to sunbathe. Because the house was empty she decided to sunbathe naked. Sitting on the chaise lounge, she rubbed suntan lotion on her body. She had a voluptuous body and a beautiful Slavic face. Her hands rubbed her ample breasts and her large nipples became erect from the cool lotion. In the winters she let her hair grow long, but when the summer heat became too sweltering she shaved her head. That was a couple months ago, in late May. Now late August, she teased her black hair into a sexy Caesar cut, the hairs long enough to slightly curl on her forehead.

The sun beat down on her naked skin. She cleaned off her hands on the nearby towel and picked up her book.

Between her legs the smooth oyster of her cunt craved satisfaction. During the long weeks when Trent slept elsewhere, she spent the nights jumping from bed to bed. She attained ornate pleasures with the other staff members. Some nights she coupled with another staff member. The delicate tongues of the other maids were her favorite. Other nights, she dove into sweaty knots of limbs, tongues, and teeth. One night, Ilya, an older maid, perhaps in her mid-thirties, held her wrists down while Nia and Tania licked her nipples. The security men took turns pounding her, the fucking as powerful as it was uncreative. When it was all over, the sun barely peaking over the indigo sea, the four men rested on the floor like ruined Roman statuary, their sperm spent over the faces and bodies of the four maids.

That was last week. Veronica couldn't remember whether it was Wednesday or Thursday.

Ilya was still asleep. Last night she had a wild threeway with Cain, a new man hired for security, and Janosz, the Carpathian cook. Veronica's bedchamber was next to Ilya's. She heard everything. The bed knocked so hard, she couldn't fall asleep.

'Finish up your business and go to sleep!' She thought.

When she tried to read from her book, she couldn't even do that. By this time, Nia and Tania joined in the action. In their bedchambers they masturbated. Their groans filled the corridor. Lacking all restraint, the pair became noisier.

'I need to buy earplugs,' Veronica thought, her sore hand traveling down her flat stomach to her moistening pussy.

Her fingers still sore from polishing the silver, they gently caressed the folds of her cunt, her clit throbbing like a hummingbird.

As people eventually climaxed, Veronica remained unfulfilled. It took her a few minutes. When everyone else slept, she silently came, her body jerking as if possessed by a violent demonic spirit.

*

Hearing a splash, Veronica woke up with a start. She rubbed her eyes, woozy after a highly erotic dream. Her clit throbbed, this time from perverted after-images dancing in her mind. Skin sensitive from an afternoon in the sun, it felt especially tender when she remembered the dream.

The details became clearer: Ilya, Nia, and Tania feasting on her murky cunt while Rod, her boyfriend hammered her from the rear. His long cock slid in and out of her asshole. The three tongues sliding and gliding against her hairless slot, lapping up the liquid that seeped from her.

She stared at the waves in the pool, her mind elsewhere. Then she realized she had a goofy smile on her face while she looked at Trent.

Trent. Her boss.

He emerged from the pool, the water dripping off his naked body. He appeared completely unselfconscious of the fact.

Veronica screamed in fright. She quickly put a nearby towel over her exposed tits and crossed her legs.

"You don't have to do that," Trent said. "Don't be embarrassed."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Mr. Mr. ..." She couldn't remember his first name. 'I must look like a complete idiot," She thought.

"Don't be ashamed. I rarely visit this place anyway. It's not your fault,"

Veronica smiled, the towel remaining in its strategic position. She tried to not stare at his cock.

He walked over, ready to shake her hand.

"You can call me Trent," He smiled, brushing stray hairs from his eyes. "You must be Ilya, right?"

"Veronica," She smiled. Her clit could not stop throbbing.

"Mind if I borrow your towel? I'm sopping wet,"

'So am I," Veronica thought, her mischievous smile betraying her modesty.

She handed him the towel. As he dried himself off, she took the opportunity to stare at his body. His physique reminded her of Baroque figures, merciless nudes enshrined in sprawling Russian palaces, their bodies taut in the extremes of battle and pleasure. She imagined herself a nymph ravished by a lusty god, her body transported to the ecstatic heights in rooms filled with carved marble figures and intoxicating decorative patterns. Trent reminded her of lanky Russian boys, either soldiers on leave or vicious street toughs. She had her share back at home.

As she got off the chaise lounge, her golden cross necklace glittered in the bright sunlight. It had been a gift from a naïve Russian boy, his name forgotten.

"I can make us drinks!" Veronica said.

"That was kind of random," Trent said. "But sure, I could go for a drink."

"What do you want?"

"A lemonade would be fine,"

"Vodka lemonade?" She asked, her confidence making her bold.

"Sure. Whatever it is, just lots of ice,"

Veronica ran inside. She knew where the maids hid the good vodka.

Trent rested on a nearby chaise lounge. The sea soothed his mind, relaxing his tense body. He closed his eyes, letting the sunlight hit him, baking his sun parched flesh.

'Need to make up for lost time,' He thought, not necessarily about tanning, but about everything else.

After a few minutes Veronica returned. She held two Tom Collins glasses and a big smile.

"Here you are, sir," She said in a half-mocking tone.

"Thank you very much," He took a big gulp and set the glass down on the concrete deck. "What are you reading?"

Veronica looked stunned.

"Nothing really," She said sheepishly.

"Still, better than reading spreadsheets and earnings reports. That's what I've been doing for the past six months. I'm glad I'm done though. Once I get a very important phone call, I'll be able to have all the fun I can handle,"

"What kind of fun?"

"All kinds. I'll finally be able to cruise around in my Barchetta again,"

"Barchetta?" Veronica was confused.

"The little red car in the garage,"

"Oh, that car! I love that one. It's so cute!"

"I'll take you out on a ride sometime. Then you might not think it's so cute," Trent smirked playfully.

"What else? What other fun you want to do?"

"Oh I don't know. I just want to rest right now,"

"You want some suntan lotion?" Veronica asked honestly. "I don't want you to burn?"

"Sure, that would be great,"

Veronica squeezed lotion on to her palm.

"Oh, I was going to do it myself,"

"That's okay. You've worked hard for such a long time,"

"You probably worked hard too. What did you do yesterday?"

"Well, first I polished the silver in the dining room, then I went to polish the silver in cabinets. Dusting too. I did a lot of dusting,"

As Veronica went on about her day, Trent closed his eyes. He felt her hands put lotion on her arms. Then she put lotion on his legs. Her hands brushed his thighs and then went up his stomach and chest. She gently caressed his neck. Then her hands returned to his erect nipples.

Her fingers played with a nipple while she cupped his scrotum. Trent inhaled.

"Feeling okay?" She asked.

"Fine. Just fine," A big smile on his face.

Her fingers slid up and down his shaft, lubricating it with suntan lotion. His cock hardened, lengthening until it nearly reached his navel.

"Keep going," Trent said. "That feels so good,"

She pumped faster, his rod hard and smooth beneath her fingers.

She began to lick his nipples.

"The hot tub," He said.

"What?"

"I want to fuck you in the hot tub. Over there," He pointed.

When they stepped in to the hot tub, Trent grabbed her by the thighs and held her close. He sucked her large dark nipples, tasting the suntan lotion and her sweat.

She continued to pump his cock, her fingers playing with the head.

With Trent sitting on the edge, she began to suck him off. Her tongue traveled up and down his shaft. Her lips enclosed around the head and then her head bobbed, furiously sucking. After sucking his cock, she played with it some more. She pressed her tits together as Trent pumped vigorously. As his head came closer to her mouth, she bent her neck down to tongue it. The more swollen it got, the more she wanted it inside her.

Trent, reading the lust in her eyes, slid into the hot tub. He pushed Veronica against the edge, his cock pressing up against her cunt.

"Put it inside me," She sighed into his ears. "Put it inside me now! I want to feel your stiff cock inside me!"

Trent obliged, sliding inside her. She sighed, her eyes wincing in pain.

The water splashed about as he pumped her hard. He squeezed her tits and kissed her. Their tongues intertwined in a ferocious dance.

"I love your rod. I love your rod," She kept repeating to herself.

He spun around and supported himself in the hot tub. Leaning back on the lip of the tub, he held her butt and continued to pound her.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," She looked like she about to cry. Her tits bounced quickly as her thighs smashed into his.

"You fuck a lot of guys?" Trent asked. He frowned, trying to hold back making him grimace.

"Many many," She said, holding back the ecstasy coursing through her body. "Me and Nia like to share our boys ... fuck!"

"Is Nia hot like you?" He devoured her nipples.

"Nia is my sweet flower," Trent flipped Veronica over and inserted himself into her cunt again. "Oh God!" He held her close to him and gripped her tits.

"Tell me about her. Tell me about your bitch,"

He withdrew some of his cock, then quickly inserted it again.

"She's petite and has little breasts like teardrops. Her skin is mocha and she has long black hair. When her boyfriend is over, we share his big black cock!"

Trent tasted the tears rolling down Veronica's cheeks.

"Who else do you share?"

Veronica listed them off, each name meriting another throbbing slam from Trent's cock, each more ferocious than the last.

"Does your boyfriend know you share?"

"How do you know I ..." Veronica couldn't finish, Trent's fingers pinching her nipples. He pinched her nipples, then twisted them. "O yes, that feels so good!"

"Does he share?" Trent said as he bit her earlobe.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! He wants me to share!"

Trent pounded her again, this time it felt less like a piston and more like a jackhammer. Veronica screamed, her voice sending echoes into the nearly deserted house.

"I'm about to cum," Trent sighed.

Trent slid out of the hot tub and let Veronica finish the job.

She rapidly pumped his cock as Trent rested on his elbows. Licking and sucking, she kept his cock rigid and erect until Trent could hold back no longer.

With a distressed moan he finally ejaculated. To Veronica it seemed like spooj went everywhere, her tits, her face, her forehead, and her shoulders. She glistened with the pearly ejaculate.

"The bedroom," Trent said between gasps.

"What?"

"The bedroom. I want to see you cum,"

"Your bedroom?"

Trent nodded.

Veronica wasn't sure. The stuff she told Trent about her boyfriend was only partially true. And he was coming over later.

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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 17 years ago
There's a cure for WHAT?

Cures for AIDS and herpes? Do you really believe that to be true? Or is your story set in a parallel universe where these cures really have been found? The best we can do right now is reduce the outbreaks of painful pustulous herpes sores, and extend the life of AIDS patients to (hopefully) decades of pretty good health--provided they can afford the drug regime, and that treatment of other medical problems doesn't preclude the AIDS drug regimen.

I guess it would be great to be a swinger in a world where one could easily be cured of awful diseases. But please don't pretend that's the case in this world.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 17 years ago
Great Story!

A really well written and hot story, please continue!

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